


The Aftermath

by Vizkopa



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert, op
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vizkopa/pseuds/Vizkopa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It was a poor replacement for intimacy, but it was better than being alone.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for allusions to abusive relationship. Nothing explicit, but just in case.

This was how it always was – The Aftermath. That was what you called it anyway, because to you, that was what it was. That was all it could ever be with someone of such destructive power. Gentle had never been in his nature. ‘Making love’ was not a term that could be found in his vocabulary. He knew only pain and the pleasures it brought with it.

You sat alone in the tub once again, the rapidly cooling water milling around you in minuscule waves that lapped gently at your sides. You shivered, but not from the cold. You could still feel his touch against your skin, his claws biting, fingers bruising. It had been a touch that you had once enjoyed, the thrill of pain mingling with pleasure bringing warmth to your veins. But it had long since turned cold, and you wondered why you still endured.

Cupping the now cold water within your hands, you brought it to your face, gasping as the icy fluid sent rivulets cascading down your cheeks and neck. You winced as it reached your collarbone, transparent droplets turning to rust as they washed away the dried and blackened gore. You traced one red, swollen crescent with your finger, remembering the way his canines so easily invaded the fragile membrane, the rough rasp of his feline tongue as he lapped at the welling blood.

This was The Aftermath of Rob Lucci’s attention, of his poor replacement for intimacy. You could feel the tears welling up again, but you refused to let them fall. You couldn’t show him your weakness.

The door swung open without warning and Lucci strode in, feet and chest bare. You hurriedly dried your eyes and turned to him, your expression unreadable.

“Are you crying again?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“No.”

“Good,” he growled. “You know I hate it when you do. Get out, you’ll catch a cold.”

You felt his eyes on you as you stood, the water sloshing about against the sides of the tub, tumbling in cascades down your waist and legs. You stepped out delicately and reached for a towel only to be met with one already held open for you. A tinge of pink flooded your cheeks as he waited expectantly for you. You only hesitated a moment before stepping into the welcome warmth of the cloth and, surprisingly, his arms.

“Why do you stay?”

“Because I love you.” Your voice was flat, emotionless.

“Don’t give me that,” he hissed, stepping away to take you by the shoulders. You turned your head away to hide your wince of pain.

“ _Why do you stay?_ ”

You remained silent, refusing to meet his gaze. His grip tightened to bruising point but still he got no reaction. He let go and closed his eyes, attempting to control his rage. When he spoke again, his voice was calm – dangerously so.

“Come to bed or leave and never come back. Either way, I don’t care.” He turned his back on you and strode from the room, the scars on his back prominent in the moonlight. He bore them proudly, unlike you.

Your scars were invisible, concealed expertly. Still they served as a constant reminder that you were broken inside and as strong as you were, you knew you had not the strength to leave him. Not yet. You had made up your mind even before the last of the water had drained from the tub.

When you entered the bedroom in your thin night gown, Lucci appeared already asleep, his silhouetted chest rising and falling steadily beneath the covers. When he felt the bed shift, however, he turned to you as if he had been expecting you.

“Stupid woman,” he growled, but opened his arms to you all the same and you collapsed gratefully into them, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

You were asleep within seconds, but it seemed unconsciousness could no longer find him. 

“Why do you stay?” he whispered, more a question to himself than to your sleeping form.

It was a question that would remain unanswered, and as much as it bothered him he could not help but be grateful for your continued presence, though he would never admit it. After all... 

It was better than being alone.


End file.
